Snowball
by silver-sunn101
Summary: In which Sirius invites evil home and Remus is pounced repeatedly. SR slash.


**Title:** Snowball  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters at all.  
**Warnings:** None  
**Notes:** Written for minnow53 for the naughtynewyear fic exchange on livejournal.

"You have got to be kidding." 

"Don't you like her, Moony?" Well, that was definitely a stupid question. The thing was obviously evil incarnate; with an endless sea full of fur just waiting to be shed all over _everything_, gleaming yellow slits of eyes, and tiny little fangs hidden behind an innocent demeanor, with matching claws to boot. It was common knowledge that animals did not like him and he wasn't overly fond of them either. Remus plus animals did not equal happiness, _not at all._

So, with all things considered, the only thing Remus found himself able to do in response to Sirius' moment of complete idiocy was cross his arms, lean back against the doorframe, and raise one eyebrow in Sirius' general direction.

"But she's cute and–and, well, she's cuddly! Well, okay, so she did attack the lamp shade the moment I brought her home, and she really didn't like your pillow–sorry 'bout that, mate–but otherwise she's completely harmless. _Really_!" Sirius said when Remus showed no signs of believing him.

"Here," Sirius tried again, lifting the ball of white fuzz from the middle of the sitting room floor and stalking across the room toward Remus. He held the animal out in front of him like a shield to save himself from the cold, hard wrath of Remus. Remus glanced down at it; Sirius had grabbed it round the middle, leaving its limbs at awkward, stuck-out angles while the beast of an animal was frozen in midair, staring up at Remus with those evil yellow eyes. It looked wary, frightened even, and Remus knew that this little monster would be no different from the rest of them.

He really did try to be a gentleman about these things. Really, he did. But it seemed that nearly all animals went wonky around him: either they would spaz out and attack Remus or anything else in sight, or they would sit in a stunned, frightened trance that eerily resembled a deer caught in headlights. Once, when Remus was seven, he had been walking home from the drugstore with his mother when a stray puppy trounced across their path. He was an amiable fellow, wagging its tail at them from afar and then running toward them when Remus bent down on one knee and offered it a biscuit. But, just when the puppy had almost reached Remus, it paused and stared at him, his expression changing from ecstatic to wary, and after a few moments the puppy yelped and ran back the way it had come with its tail between its legs. So, while deep, deep inside Remus harbored a love for fuzzy four-legged creatures, he really couldn't help but feel slightly bitter where that area was concerned.

"It's a cat," he stated in a deadpan voice, looking back up at Sirius pointedly.

"_Kitten_," Sirius corrected, pulling the animal closer to himself, but not releasing his grip on the fuzz ball's waist.

"Why is there a kitten in our flat?" Remus asked after a moment. He didn't suppose that he wanted to know, but when one walked into their home after a hard day's work and found the spawn of Satan in their living room, one was granted the right to ask a few questions.

Sirius grinned, pulling the thing back to himself. It was ridiculously tiny, really. Barely the size of one of Sirius' fists. He buried his nose in the fur of the beast, the corners of his mouth quirking up, and then hugged it to himself.

"Quite frankly, Moony, she's adorable. Now wait–" Sirius said when Remus opened his mouth to tell Sirius exactly how adorable _satanic little fluff balls_ were. "I know that you and animals aren't exactly buddies, but we can fix that! Why should you be scared of them?"

Remus outright stared at him. In a disbelieving voice he said, "_I'm_ scared of _them_?"

"Yes, and you really shouldn't be! You're completely harmless, aren't you Snowball?" he finished in a baby voice, cuddling into the tiny little ball of evil again.

"Oh lord no, you are not naming that–that _thing_ Snowball. Of all the cliché, corny names for a white cat–"

"_Kitten_."

"Why on Earth would you even consider _Snowball_?" Remus continued, ignoring Sirius' cheery correction. Honestly, the man was entirely too cheerful about this whole situation. He had deliberately invited evil into their flat. If either of them died a fiery death that night, it would be on Sirius' head. Remus, for one, was bringing a cross with him to bed, just in case.

"She loves it. I tried other names, but this one just seemed to suit her best," he replied, still not looking at Remus, but at the little beast that was cradled in his arms. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, and if Remus didn't know any better, he'd say that Sirius was in love with a cat. He scratched behind one of her ears and the thing started purring, a noise that Remus found completely unnatural. Back at Hogwarts, Lily's cat purred like one of those motorbikes that Sirius incessantly drooled over. But, it only liked Lily and Peter, all anyone else got from it were claws in their legs as they walked past the couch it was residing under. At least then other people felt Remus' pain. Literally.

"You know that we aren't keeping it," he said sternly, looking at Sirius with hard eyes. Sirius looked up with wide blue eyes that he had somehow worked into a teary gaze. Remus closed his eyes; the damn puppy-dog look did it every time, and if he could just not look the cat would go away and all would be right with the world again.

"But I love her, Moony! Come on, she's really not that bad," he said, demonstrating by holding the cat out again. Though Remus' eyes were still closed, so Sirius pushed her up against Remus' chest. "See? She's calm and friendly, and doesn't attack anything that moves like Lily's monster of a cat. All you have to do is give her time and I'm sure she'll–"

Sirius was broken off by a yell of pain from Remus. The little beast had suddenly woken from her damned stupor and all at once moved in Sirius' hands, hissed, and dug her claws straight into Remus' chest. No matter how much pain Remus was used to, it still hurt like a thousand fiery hells.

"Get your beast off of me," he ground out through gritted teeth, wincing as Sirius pulled the claws from his chest. Sirius looked apologetic, but Remus had known that this would happen, and glared at him venomously. "You keep that thing away from me!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air. He darted around Sirius and the beast, ran down the hallway and locked himself in his room, only to come out once between then and dawn to grab the small cross his mother had given him from the front closet. Sirius had placated the monster with a bedtime story, and neither the delusional man nor the wicked little demon noticed Remus slink back down the hallway.

This torture went on for weeks, Remus lost track of the days. Though Sirius hadn't been kidding when he said that he would take care of the thing. He had taken well enough care of it, and then some.

It started on day three, when Sirius brought home the largest cat home Remus had ever seen. He set it up outside the living room window, the only one in that side of the flat, and as soon as it was set up in all it's carpeted glory the monster had jumped up on it, walked around in a circle twice, and settled down as if to nap. But the thing didn't nap, oh no. It never napped. Just when Remus thought that it was asleep and safe to sneak by, its eyes would flash open and the thing would pounce him before he ever had a chance to plead for his life. And the stupid cat home was not helping matters at all. The beast loved to sit on the very top level, the level not two feet from the bloody ceiling, and jump on Remus from the top, digging its claws into his skull, wasting no time in going straight for his brain.

When Remus complained, Sirius would shrug it off and say, "She's getting to know you better!"

"By sucking my soul out through her nails?" Remus had replied, slightly angry and slightly hysterical, but mostly in disbelief. Sirius didn't believe that the cat was truly, truly evil. He had been fooled by the false cover that the conniving demon had created of an adorable little kitten.

All right, so when Remus was honest with himself, he didn't really find the thing evil. But it was easier to call the cat evil than it was to accept that it was him who was evil, and the cat was merely protecting itself against him. It made perfect sense, really, with animal instincts and whatnot, but Remus didn't particularly like understanding animal logic so well, so in his mind the cat was rendered evil.

After many days filled with unsheathed claws, tiny razor sharp teeth, and the vomit-inducing smell of cat food, Remus and the cat finally came to some sort of an unspoken agreement. Remus wouldn't come near Sirius, and the cat wouldn't come near him. Remus realized this the night Sirius returned home from a particularly harsh day of Auror training and flopped face-first into the couch with a low moan of pain.

"All right there, Padfoot?" Remus asked from the back room, where he was attempting to do his laundry. Sirius had more of a penchant for muggle appliances, which usually left him doing many of the household chores, but Remus had some unidentifiable red substance across the bottom of his right sleeve and needed to get it out as soon as possible. He had no clue what it was, and didn't want it lingering there long. He just hoped that he didn't blow himself up in the process.

"No, 'm not all right. I hurt like a buggering–" he broke off with a muffled grunt, and his voice grew louder as he walked to their spare room. "Do you know what James did to me today?" Without waiting for an answer he continued, pausing against the doorframe behind Remus. "We had to practice Unforgivables today to know what we're up against, y'know? It's part of the ending of our training. Anyways, Prongs and I were working together, and when it was his turn to cast the Imperius, I couldn't fight it. He started ramming me into doors, walls, desks–once, get this, he threw me down a flight of stairs! All because I told that little blonde twit at the front desk that he flirts with every day that he's married."

Remus turned and leaned against the front of the washing machine, looking over the tired form before him. "Why'd he care about the blonde so much?"

"Had a bet with Shacklebolt on who could get her number first," Sirius said, waiving it off with a careless hand. "Point is, Lily wouldn't have liked it, and if she found out I knew about it I'd be found at the bottom of a river, along with what would be left of James. Who would deserve it, that wanker. My back is more sore than that time Peter threw me off of the roof of greenhouse three in fifth year," he said with a pointed look at Remus, who smiled at him and chuckled under his breath.

"Go on then, I'll meet you in the living room,"

"You're the best, Moony!" Sirius said with a grateful smile, and left for the front room. It seemed that Remus had a natural skill as a masseuse, built with much practice on Quidditch-sore roommates over the years. Sirius came home sore from work so often that Remus had begun to think that Sirius only offered to share his flat with Remus for his skill with his hands and nothing to do with the company.

He finished up with his laundry and walked into the front room, where Sirius was already lying on his stomach on the couch, with his shirt off and a pillow beneath his head for support. Remus knelt next to him on the floor, and started to work out the kinks in Sirius' shoulders and neck first, asking quietly, "Where's it hurt the most?"

"Everywhere," Sirius mumbled, his voice muffled slightly by the back of the couch.

Remus took this as his cue to start massaging and not to stop until Sirius had either fallen asleep or it was time to start working on dinner. He worked out the muscles surrounding his shoulder blades, kneading the muscles in his mid-back and using his palms for Sirius' lower back. When Sirius would make a low, garbled moan, Remus would work over the area again, pressing with his thumbs and the outside of his hand, giving the extra sore areas a little more love than the rest, before moving on. Remus liked doing this for a few reasons. One, he liked being able to do something for his friends, as they had done so very much for him. They had helped him with the single biggest pain in his life, and the least he could do is help them out with their small aches. Second, it was a fantastic way of relaxing himself. He could focus only on Sirius, or whoever he had beneath him, and put all his thoughts into their body. All other worries and fears would fade as he meditated, the motion of his hands and the feeling of the skin beneath them melting all troublesome thoughts into nothing.

"Right there," Sirius whispered in a slightly strained voice as Remus touched his fingers to the muscles beneath his shoulder blades once more. Remus slowed his touch, his fingers just drifting over the tanned skin, and gently pushed upwards with his thumbs, relaxing the beaten muscles.

The atmosphere was hushed and relaxed, both young men finding no real need to speak in the comfortable silence. Remus was completely focused on his task, not noticing the small white demon lurking under the coffee table. It watched his hands on Sirius, as they went up, and as they came back down. As they worked harder to knead out tougher muscles, and as they barely touched the skin like an angel's whisper over the unharmed areas of his back. Its eyes narrowed into the smallest slits, its ears down low, and it skulked out from its cover and then attached itself to Remus' thigh with claws at the ready.

"Owfuck!" Remus swore loudly, moving his hands instantly from Sirius to the satanic kitten on his side. He stood and backed up, attempting to pry the beast from his leg, tripping over the coffee table and stumbling to the wooden floor with a resounding _thud_. The cat scurried off, hopping gracefully onto the couch and planting itself on the gentle curve of Sirius' denim-covered bum. Sirius was in tears from laughter when Remus looked up at him, hazel eyes angry. "This is not funny," he stated.

"Yes, a-actually, it is!" Sirius sputtered, laughing harder when Remus tried to get up and tripped over himself again. Remus steadied himself on his feet and grabbed the pillow off of the armchair, throwing it at Sirius, who only laughed harder still. The cat jumped off of the couch and chased Remus into the kitchen as a result, where he barricaded the swinging door and held his ground until Sirius quit laughing and locked the beast in his room.

It wasn't too long after that when Sirius informed Remus that he'd be leaving for three weeks. And he wasn't taking Satan's pet with him.

"I've got to go alone, Remus!" Sirius sighed, irritated and tired. The war was hard on all of them, and their careless days of childhood seemed far away. The bags under Sirius' eyes were all the more apparent, his skin seemed pale and sallow, looking for all the world as if Sirius were twenty years older than just last week. "Look, it's just a kitten. She won't harm you, okay? If all else fails, stun her and lock her in here. I really have to get this done, and the less you complain the sooner I can leave and be back."

"And you can't tell me where you're going either, can you?" Remus said softly, leaning against the bedpost in Sirius' room, looking out the small window behind Sirius' head.

"It's Order business. You know how it is–you can't tell me what it is you do either, holed up in your room for hours on end with only those dusty old books."

Remus nodded, but didn't say anything. He hated the mistrust of the times, hated not being able to know what his best friends were up to at all hours of the day. Sirius walked over to him, and moved Remus' gaze up with a finger beneath his chin. He smiled down at Remus, "Hey, I'll be back in three weeks exactly to laugh at my roommate, who can't even defend himself from a helpless kitty."

Remus laughed quietly, but sobered up quickly. "You take care of yourself, you hear? Someone's got to be here to protect me from that little monster."

Sirius pulled him into a tight hug, gripping Remus' waist as if it would anchor him against the vile wind that had taken hold of the Wizarding World. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius just as tight, frightened more now than ever of the fate of those he cared about. "I hear you, Moony. I'll be back in one piece, I swear."

And with a packing spell and only one trip back for his cloak, Sirius was gone. And for a week and a half, Remus was left alone in the silent hostility of his empty flat. He hadn't been completely alone since _his_ trip for the Order, that melancholy visit to the werewolves in southern Italy who were all the barbarian that he was not.

Of course, it didn't help that the wicked little fluff ball had come to the conclusion that it was Remus' fault that Sirius was gone and attacked him more than ever. Remus had more claw marks from the beast than he gave himself on full moons. His skin was littered with furious red scratches that stung and bled when he moved. When he was doing the dishes, it would pounce on his heels and make him drop a large pan or plate, spilling burning water all over himself. When he was trying to read, it would attack him from above and make him spill his tea all over his beloved book. When he was doing research, it would trounce all over his piles of paperwork, setting his progress into complete disarray.

With three hellish days left until Sirius was set to return, Remus walked into the dim flat. He sighed heavily and set his damp cloak on the hanger near the fireplace, aiming his wand to start a fire without speaking. He stood in front of the orange flames as they began to heat up, drying his wet clothes nicely. It was raining sheets outside and he had walked home from his job in the cafe down the street in the middle of the storm. He sat down on the rug in front of the fire, warming first his back, and then his chest and knees, then finally settling down on his back and allowing his body to relax.

Movement to his right caught his eye, and Remus lazily turned his head that way. The kitten was underneath the coffee table again, staring heatedly at something. Remus followed her gaze down his legs and to his foot, which he was jiggling with nervous energy. Again he looked at her to see the interest, but she had merely moved up two steps, stalking his foot intently. Each time his foot bounced up and down, the shoelace would jump back and forth, swinging in a way that entranced the little kitten. Remus sat up, but continued to shake his foot, seeing now what Sirius saw in the little thing. She was adorable when she stalked something, watching its every movement with her yellow eyes, inching forward slowly as so not to alert her prey of her presence.

When she was an arm's length away, she jumped on the shoelace, following it when Remus moved his foot out of the way. He lifted his leg up, and dangled the shoelace above her head, and she batted at it with both paws. Careful not to kick her, Remus removed his shoe and moved it around with his hand, laughing as she tumbled and fell, following all movements of the shoelace. She dashed over the floor, slipping and sliding, jumped on the bare coffee table and the back of the couch, chasing it where Remus took it, running around the house with only one shoe on and laughing at the kitten.

Remus finally let her have it, throwing his shoe to the ground where she began to mutilate the end of his shoelace, and settled down next to her with his back against the couch. She paused her chewing, abandoning her well-earned prey, and looked up at Remus with wide yellow eyes as if she had just realized who he was. She stood up slowly, setting Remus' nerves on edge. She was going to attack him again, he knew it. He had no luck with animals, none at all.

But the kitten didn't attack him after all. She walked over to him, purring, and climbed up into his lap, staring innocently up at him. Cautiously, Remus reached out to scratch behind her ear, allowing himself a wide smile as she relaxed against him and started purring louder.

When Sirius came home three days later, he paused in the doorway and smiled at down at Remus. "See? I told you she would like you," he said softly, moving to kneel next to the armchair Remus was seated in with a book in one hand and Snowball curled up asleep on his lap.

Remus closed his book and turned to Sirius, the corners of his mouth upturned, "Well, you always have to be right, don't you?" Sirius shook his head, smiling a little wider.

"I knew she would get used to you. I got Snowball from a woman who is also a werewolf; she breeds cats and other animals who are used to living with werewolves. It took me forever to find the woman, but it was worth it, wasn't it?" He was grinning at Remus, knowing that he had done good, and if he'd had a tail then it would have been wagging. Remus didn't say anything, slightly stunned by the thoughtful action. Sirius moved up, resting his forehead against Remus'. "I know how much you were hurt that animals are afraid of you, so I got you one that wouldn't be, not right away. Cats are finicky, so that's probably why she kept attacking you for so long. Though I think that by now you were just more afraid of them hating you, than it was the animals who actually dislike you. They sense these things, you know... Did I do good, Moony?" he asked quietly.

"Very good, Padfoot. Thank you," Remus whispered, touching Sirius' cheek softly. Their voices seemed to be discussing something else, something more passionate and primitive than kittens, the tones they used no longer relevant to the topic at hand. Sirius moved his hand to the back of Remus' neck, playing with his fine hair. Remus leaned forward, tilting his head enough to kiss Sirius without bumping noses or anything equally awkward. They held steady there, time pausing for one moment, their lips parting softly, slowly together, neither willing to break off to breathe and instead breathing the warm, wet breath of each other. Remus turned more toward Sirius, cursing the arm of the armchair between them and the slightly jostled, now-awake kitten on his lap.

Sirius pulled away softly, his hand still on Remus' neck and another on his shoulder, and looked up at Remus with a smile in his eyes and playing with his lips.

"So... I take it we can keep Snowball?"

"Of course we can keep her, Padfoot," Remus laughed, and kissed Sirius once more.


End file.
